At thirty years of age Fletcher was pressed to become a missionary to Antigua, but was prevented by the advice of Charles Wesley, who foresaw for him a more useful service in England.
Introduced by John Wesley to the famous Countess of Huntingdon, Fletcher was further commended to her by the poet-brother in such a manner as led her to urge him to become chaplain to her household. On the understanding that the appointment should not interfere either with his preaching, or the work he had taken up amongst French prisoners and refugees, he accepted the post, and through it became acquainted with many great spirits who ranked amongst the noble of the earth.
A great work was at this time being done at Everton, the parish of the Rev John Berridge, and Fletcher made special efforts to see and profit by it He introduced himself to the noted clergyman as a convert seeking instruction and advice Berridge, noting his foreign accent, asked him his nationality.
“A Swiss from the Canton of Berne,” was the reply.
“From Berne! Ah, then you can give me some account of a young countryman of yours, one John Fletcher, who has lately preached a few times for the Mr. Wesleys, and of whose talents, learning, and piety they both speak in terms of high eulogy Do you know him?”
“I know him intimately, and did those gentlemen know him as well they would not speak of him in such terms, for which he is more obliged to their partial friendship than to his own merits,” was the unexpected reply.
“You surprise me,” objected Berridge, “in speaking so coldly of a countryman in whose praises they are so warm.”
“I have the best of reasons for speaking of him as I do—I am John Fletcher.”
Berridge melted at this, and insisted upon his occupying his pulpit the following morning. For three days Fletcher remained at Everton, joined there by the Countess of Huntingdon and two well-known clergymen, Martin Madan and Henry Venn The services were, perforce, held in the open-air, for on the third day ten thousand persons gathered to hear the word of God Many fell to the ground overpowered by the influence of the Spirit, and numbers cried for mercy.
Fletcher’s life as a tutor now ended Mr. Hill was extremely anxious to benefit him, and to this end offered him the living of Dunham, in Cheshire, explaining that the duty was light, the income £400 a year (a good sum in those days), and the surrounding country delightful.
“Dunham will not suit me,” said Fletcher quietly; “there is too much money and too little labour.”
“What shall we do? Would you like Madeley? My nephew is the patron, and I am sure the present Vicar would be only too glad to exchange it for anything so good as Dunham.”
“It would suit me exactly,” quoth Fletcher, kindling at the thought He had preached there, and knew the rough character of its colliers and forgemen.
Curiously enough, the old Vicar of Dunham died suddenly The day after the event Mr. Hill met his nephew at the Shrewsbury races, and in that unlikeliest place of all, it was arranged that the Madeley living should be presented to Fletcher.
It was a matter of course that he should consult his friend Charles Wesley, but though he longed, if God so led, to undertake the work, he feared greatly that many who were violently opposed to some of his views would resist the appointment, and that the greatest barrier of all, the Bishop of Lichfield, would refuse to countersign his testimonials.
An extract from one of his letters to the Countess of Huntingdon shows how all these obstacles were removed:—
“The difficulty of getting proper testimonials, which I had looked upon as insurmountable, vanishes at once; the three clergymen that had opposed me with the most bitterness signed them; the Bishop of Lichfield countersigns them without the least objection; the lord of the manor, my great opposer, leaves the parish; and the Vicar, who told me that I should never preach in that church, now recommends me to it, and tells me he will induct me himself Are not these the intimations of the will of God? It seems so to me.”
So it came to pass that in the parish book was made the following entry:—
“John Fletcher, clerk, was inducted to the vicarage of Madeley the 17th of October, 1760.—John Fletcher, Vicar.”
In the same month as Mary Bosanquet was cast out of her father’s home to commence life anew as a toiler for God, John Fletcher settled down to his work in the parish of his choice.
Madeley lies three or four miles from the foot of the Wrekin in a winding glen, through which flows the River Severn So far it was a place of beauty, but in no other sense The colliers and iron-workers of Coalbrookdale and Madeley were ignorant, brutal, and much given to drunkenness and profanity The Sabbath was ignored, decency frequently flouted, bull-baiting a favourite pastime, and religion a matter of coarse ridicule and bitter scorn. After their day’s work the inhabitants frequently held nights of revelry, lasting until dawn, when dancing, drunkenness, and obscenity reigned supreme.
Fletcher commenced his campaign with great earnestness and zeal He had no idea of contenting himself with preaching to a handful of feeble folk twice upon a Sunday; he counted every day lost if he had not in it brought some of his people face to face with the requirements of God In cottages, at street corners, or in the church, he held a service just as often as he could gather sufficient people together; he visited the public-houses, and even appeared at the midnight carousals, warning men of the wrath of God, and urging them to flee to Jesus for mercy.
The parishioners of Madeley grew decidedly uncomfortable They desired nothing so much as to be left alone, and the influence of this new parson was a force with which they found it necessary to reckon. They grew to dread the sudden opening of their tavern and dance-room doors, and the appearance of the pale, pure-faced man, whose eyes glowed like coals, and whose words burned and stung as he rebuked sin.
They were not used to being continually confronted with the claims of God; they did not relish the urgency with which Fletcher insisted uponconversionrather than church-going They turned upon him in public; they maligned him in private; they disturbed his informal meetings; they cursed his name. One thing they were bound to do, however, they respected his courage and goodness, and that alone was sufficient eventually to turn the tide.
It was a lonely time for Fletcher. He was a young man, with no companion; he was of cultured mind, and greatly missed some kindred intelligence and friendly spirit with which he might commune of the things which pressed upon his soul Little wonder that his heart should turn towards the sweet-spirited woman whose face dwelt in his memory with gentle persistence. He looked upon the idea of marriage, however, as a snare to draw his thoughts from his work, and he fought it down as something unworthy of his high calling.
“I am driven to the Lord,” he wrote to the Countess of Huntingdon, “and He comforts, encourages, and teaches me The devil, my friends, and my heart have pushed at me to make me fall into worldly cares and creature snares . . . but I have been enabled to cry, ’Nothing but Jesus and the service of His people,’ and I trust the Lord will keep me in the same mind.”
Fletcher lived with the utmost frugality, for some time doing without even a servant, and taking his meals at a neighbour’s house An idea of his simplicity of life may be gained from a story told by one who was at a boarding-school at Madeley which Mr. Fletcher frequently visited:—
“One morning he came in just as the girls had sat down to breakfast He said but little while the meal lasted, but when it was finished he spoke to each girl separately, and concluded by saying to the whole, ’I have waited some time on you this morning, that I might see you eat your breakfast; and I hope you will visit me to-morrow morning to see how I eat mine.’ He told them his breakfast-hour was seven o’clock, and obtained a promise that they would visit him Next morning they went at the time appointed, and seated themselves in the kitchen Mr. Fletcher came in quite rejoiced to see them On the table stood a small basin of milk and sops of bread Mr. Fletcher carried the basin across the kitchen and sat down on an old bench He then took out his watch, laid it before him, and said, ’My dear girls, yesterday morning I waited on you a full hour while you were at breakfast; I shall take as much time this morning in eating my breakfast as I usually do, if not rather more. Look at my watch!’ He immediately began to eat, and continued in conversation with them. When he had finished he asked how long he had been at breakfast They said, ’Just a minute and a-half, sir.’ ‘Now, my dear girls,’ said he, we have fifty-eight minutes of the hour left,’ and he then began to sing—
“Our life is a dream!Our time as a streamGlides swiftly away,And the fugitive moment refuses to stay.
“After this he gave them a lecture on the worth of time and the worth of the soul. They then all knelt down in prayer.”
The Vicar of Madeley led no idle life. He started Friday evening lectures; on Sunday afternoon he catechised the school-children, spent many hours of every day in visiting the sick and poor, and hesitated not at all to sit up whole nights with any who lacked attention To the careless landowners and farmers whom he failed to get into his church he addressed the first of his published sermons, with a preface which urged them toreadhis message if they would not listen to it.
With Fletcher there was no preaching against the absent wrong-doer, no haranguing evil in the abstract, but there was never lacking a definite and personal denouncement of present and personal sin. One tremendous word loomed large before his hearers, nor could any misunderstand when he talked aboutsin, and the arousing thought was pressed ever closer to them by his pointed use of the wordyou. Here is an example:—
“Did you ever make a prey of the poor and helpless? Are you like the horse-leech, ever crying, ‘Give, give!’ still wanting more profit, and never thinking you have enough? Do you take more care to heap up treasure on earth than in Heaven? Have you got the unhappy secret of distilling silver out of the poor man’s brow, and gold out of the tears of helpless widows and friendless orphans? Or, which is rather worse, do you, directly or indirectly, live by poisoning others, by encouraging the immoderate use of those refreshments which, if taken to excess, disorder the reason, ruin the soul, and prove no better than slow poison to the body? If your business calls you to buy or sell, do you use falsehoods? do you equivocate? do you exaggerate or conceal the truth in order to impose upon your neighbour, and make a profit of his necessity or credulity? If any of these marks be upon you, God’s word singles you out and drags you to the bar of Divine justice to hear your doom in the text, ’The wicked shall surely die.’ Oh, see your danger; repent and make restitution! Why should you meet the unjust steward in Hell, when you may yet follow Zacchaeus into Heaven?...
“Perhaps your conscience bears you witness that you are not a swearing Christian, or rather a swearing infidel Well, but are you clear in the point of adultery, fornication, or uncleanness? Does not the guilt of some vile sin, which you have wickedly indulged in time past, and perhaps are still indulging, mark you for the member of a harlot, and not the member of Christ? Do you not kindle the wrath of Heaven against yourself and your country, as the men and women of Gomorrah did against themselves and the other cities of the plain? If you cherish the sparks of wantonness, as they did, how can you but be made with them to suffer the vengeance of eternal fire? Do not flatter yourselves with the vain hope that your sin is not so heinous as theirs. If it be less in degree, is it not infinitely greater in its aggravating circumstances? Were these poor CanaanitesChristians? Had they Bibles and ministers? Had they sermons and sacraments? Did they ever vow, as you have done, to renounce the devil and all sinful lusts of the flesh? Did they ever hear of the Son of God sweating great drops of blood, in an agony of prayer, to quench the fire of human corruption? Oh, acknowledge your guilt and danger, and by deep repentance prevent infallible destruction!”
Faithful and fearless utterances such as these made him famous, but not popular: inconsistent professors resented them deeply; open sinners raged at the unsparing denunciations which they could not fail to appropriate, yet out of the latter class came some of Fletcher’s best and most encouraging converts.
Much of his success in getting men to listen to unpalatable truths lay in his gentleness of manner and rare humility of mind, but “gentlest of human beings” as he has been described, he had the courage of a lion in fight, and for his Master’s sake he knew no palliation of unrighteousness, even though his truth-telling made the bitterest of enemies.
By natureFletcher was not a meek man; he had “a fiery passionate spirit,” says one of his biographers, “insomuch that he has frequently thrown himself on the floor, and lain there most of the night bathed in tears, imploring victory over his own temper And he did obtain the victory, in a very eminent degree For twenty years and upwards before his death no one ever saw him out of temper, or heard him utter a rash expression on any provocation whatever... I never saw him in any temper in which I myself would not have wished to be found at death.”
A friend who lived for some time in his house writes thus:—
“His enemies wrested his words, misrepresented his actions, and cast out his name as evil; but whether he was insulted in his person or injured in his property; whether he was attacked with open abuse or pursued with secret calumny, he walked amid the most violent assaults of his enemies, as a man invulnerable, and while his firmness discovered that he was unhurt, his forbearance testified that he was unoffended.”
To a man with talents trained as were his, with a power of expression which could melt into uncommon eloquence when he chose, with learning to illuminate, judgment to balance his effects, and extreme quickness of perception to adapt illustration and appeal to any audience, Fletcher might have made for himself a mighty name Instead of this, “his design was toconvertand not tocaptivatehis hearers; to secure their eternal interests, and not to obtain their momentary applause... He spake as in the presence of God, and taught as one having Divine authority There was an energy in his preaching that was irresistible His subjects, his language, his gestures, the tone of his voice, and the turn of his countenance, all conspired to fix the attention and affect the heart Without aiming at sublimity, he was truly sublime, and uncommonly eloquent without affecting the orator.”
Fletcher’s encouragements at Madeley were at first sufficiently scanty to have disheartened many an earnest man.
Two Marys were amongst his earliest converts Mary Matthews, of Madeley Wood, went to hear him with the mind of the Pharisee, but she left his presence with the heart of the publican. Having obtained the pardon of her sins, she opened her little house for preaching, and stood firm, although threatened by some of the villagers with a drum-led mob, and eventually haled before the magistrates and fined £20 for the offence of turning her cottage into a conventicle.
Mary Barnard, a lame old women of ninety, counted no pain or distance too great to prevent her from making her toilsome journey to the church where she “first saw the light,” and, uneducated as she was, her definite testimony to the power of the cleansing Blood often cheered the preacher who had blessed her.
Fletcher’s methods were unique for the times in which he lived There was no hiding from him Those who tried to escape his influence by avoiding his preachings were pursued into their various haunts and homes under all kinds of circumstances and at all hours Some pretended that they could not awake in time to get ready for his early services; he responded by going out himself with a bell and sounding such clashing peals in various parts of the parish that there remained no shadow of excuse for their sleeping after 5 a.m.!
He adopted the practice of dealing with criticisms and objections from the pulpit, a course sufficiently unusual to attract much attention to what he had to say.
Work as he might, however, Fletcher received so little encouragement that he was frequently burdened with the fear lest he had mistaken the Divine appointment.
One day, when he was much oppressed in this way, he was summoned to bury a parishioner. At once he lost sight of his own trouble in the opportunity of dealing out red-hot truths to a crowd of people. One man was so convicted that he broke out into a storm of bad language, fighting as best he knew how the strange influences of the Spirit These were too strong for him, however, and he melted into tears of penitence How gladly the Vicar gave him the pardon he asked for his behaviour, and led him further still into the joy of sins forgiven, can never be told From that time he became an active helper in the parish, and one of Fletcher’s greatest encouragements.
The conversion of this man, however, seemed only the signal for greater opposition on the part of some of the colliers A number of them were baiting a bull near Madeley Wood Meeting-house one night when he was expected there to preach. “We’ll wait here andbait the parson!” they cried, settling at once who should pull him off his horse, and who should set the dogs upon him.
Mr. Fletcher, all unsuspectingly, prepared for his walk to the wood, but on the threshold was met by a messenger who had forgotten to give notice of the burial of a child who was even then being carried up for its funeral Here was a duty which could not be put off; the Vicar stayed to attend to it, and so missed his preaching appointment.
The men waited in vain, then repaired to a public-house to drink and curse their ill-luck. As they swore horrible oaths a huge china punch-bowl standing in the room fell in small fragments. This so impressed one of the number that he rose and left the place, vowing there and then to break with his old companions, and seek the salvation of his soul.
A somewhat well-known story is connected with Fletcher’s sensitiveness to the influence of the Spirit with regard to his message for men. He had entered the pulpit one Sunday morning at Madeley to preach a sermon prepared for the purpose, when all remembrance of it fled; he could not even recall the text Instantly throwing himself upon the Spirit of God for guidance, he turned to the First Lesson for the day, which happened to be the history of Shadrach, Meshach, and Abednego As soon as he began to make some remarks upon it thoughts flowed, words burned, and he found himself so strangely upheld and inspired that he felt certain God intended the word for someone of whom he was not himself aware. So sure did he become of this fact that he requested to be privately informed if this were the case.
Three days later a woman called at the vicarage and told him that she had for some time been greatly concerned about her soul through attending his services Her husband noticed her habits of private prayer, and in a violent rage threatened her with frightful consequences if she did not refrain from her church-going She told him her conscience would not allow that, and with terrible oaths he cried, “I’ll cut your throat as soon as you come back, if you go!”
The poor woman only prayed the harder, and when Sunday morning came she dressed herself for church as usual As she passed through the kitchen her husband bellowed out, “I shall not cut your throat as I said, I shall heat the big oven and throw you into it the minute you get back.” To the accompaniment of savage swearing she closed the door and made her way to the church, praying all the time that God would strengthen her to suffer whatever might befall her.
In grateful amaze she drank in every word of Fletcher’s impromptu talk upon the three martyrs in the fiery furnace, and to herself she cried softly, “If I had a thousand lives I’d lay them all down for Jesus!”
Knowing the brutal nature of her husband—a butcher by trade—she was quite prepared for the worst that might happen to her, but God kept her in utter and perfect peace when she actually saw flames issuing from the oven She was evenjoyfulas she opened the door to death.
Then, to her unspeakable astonishment, she saw her husband upon his knees, beseeching God to pardon his sins He caught her in his arms, crying, “Forgive me, wife; oh, forgive me if you can!” turning from her only to cry yet more earnestly to God for the mercy he had been led by the Spirit Himself to seek.
With here and there such incidents to cheer him, Fletcher found, after two years of rough work and numberless hindrances, that public respect was taking the place of open opposition, and the word of truth, sown in difficulty and hardness, was beginning to bring forth fruit in many hearts Wesley says of him:—
“Having chosen this narrow field of action, he was more and more abundant in his ministerial labours, both in public and in private, not contenting himself with preaching, but visiting his flock in every corner of his parish And this work he attended to, early and late, whether the weather was fair or foul, regarding neither heat nor cold, rain nor snow, whether he was on horseback or on foot But this farther weakened his constitution, which was still more effectively done by his intense and uninterrupted studies, in which he frequently continued with scarce any intermission fourteen, fifteen, and sixteen hours a day But still he did not allow himself such food as was necessary to sustain nature He seldom took any regular meals, except he had company; otherwise, twice or thrice in four and twenty hours he ate some bread and cheese or fruit Instead of this, he sometimes took a draught of milk, and then wrote on again When one reproved him for not affording himself a sufficiency of necessary food, he replied, ’Not allow myself food? Why, our food seldom costs my housekeeper and me together less than two shillings a week!’”
Isolated as was the life she lived at Hoxton, Mary Bosanquet was not wholly severed from her parents At intervals her father would drive up in his carriage, bringing her some present and renewing his persuasions to her to live at home upon the terms of spiritual silence on which he had previously insisted. But though, to all appearance peculiarly alone, the two years spent in her solitary lodging was a time of the richest blessing, during which she entered into such communion with God as influenced the whole of her after-life.
An almost curious sensitiveness to the sorrows and needs of men so possessed her that all consideration of self or repining at her condition was entirely shut out, and with this insight into the woe of the world came a wonderful baptism of Divine love God became all in all to her soul, and she lived in the spirit of Gerhardt’s inspired hymn:—
Oh, grant that nothing in my soulMay dwell but Thy pure love alone;Oh, may Thy love possess me whole,My joy, my treasure, and my crown!Strange flames far from my heart remove,My every act, word, thought, belove!
It was inevitable that her Methodist friends should suggest to her a less lonely life; some of them, indeed, went so far as to speak of her in connection with Mr. Fletcher.
“Ah, if I were to marryhim,” she thought, “he would be a help and not a hindrance to my soul!”
She little knew that Fletcher had been fighting the same thought Indeed, it was not long after this that, in answer to Charles Wesley’s practical suggestion, that a wife would be helpful in his lonely work, Fletcher drew up as quaint a set ofReasons for and Against Matrimonyas have ever been committed to paper:—
For.
1 A tender friendship is, after the love of Christ, the greatestfelicity of life; and a happy marriage is nothing but such afriendship between two persons of different sexes.
2 A wife might deliver me from the cares of housekeeping,etc.
3 Some objections and scandals may be avoided by marriage.
4 A pious and zealous wife might be as useful as myself; nay, shemight be much more so among my female parishioners, who greatlywant an inspectress.
Against.
1 Death will shortly end all particular friendships The happierthe state of marriage, the more afflicting is the widowhood;besides, we may try a friend and reject him after trial; butwecannot know a wife till it is too late to part with her.
2 Marriage brings after it a hundred cares and expenses; children,a family,etc.
3 If matrimony is not happy, it is the most fertile source ofscandal.
4 I have a thousand to one to fear that a wife, instead of being ahelp, may be indolent, and consequently useless; or humoursome,haughty, capricious, and consequently a heavy curse.
Fortunately for Mary Bosanquet, towards the end of these two years there came to London her friend Mrs. Ryan (housekeeper of Wesley’s new Room at Bristol), who fell ill, was nursed by her with great devotion, and afterwards taken home to share her rooms.
“I acknowledge,” she writes, “I neither gained honour, gold, nor indulgence to the flesh by uniting myself to a sickly, persecuted saint; but I gained such a spiritual helper as I shall eternally praise God for.”
Shortly after their union a house of Miss Bosanquet’s at Leytonstone became vacant, and in March, 1763, the Friends moved into it, and began private and public meetings under their own roof-tree.
One evening, as Miss Bosanquet was speaking to a large company assembled in her kitchen, the fore-gate bell clashed with a mighty peal. The servant went to answer it, and meantime there strode through the back door into the kitchen four ill-looking men with clubs in their hands The servant hurried back trembling, saying that a messenger had come to warn them of a great mob coming to upset them, the ringleaders being four men with clubs.
Mary Bosanquet cast a glance at her audience and answered the maid aloud, “Oh, we do not mind mobs when we are about our Master’s business ’Greater is He that is for us than all that can be against us.’” Then calmly she continued her subject, unhindered by any.
Having upon her table a few copies of the simple “Rules for the Society of the People called Methodists,” she handed one of them to each of the four ringleaders, begging their acceptance that at their leisure they might see the nature of the profession made by the worshippers. They received them with respectful bows, and no more was heard of “mobs” for that night.
The house was a lonely one, open on one side to the forest, and in it at that time lived only Mary Bosanquet, Mrs. Ryan, a maid, and Sally Lawrence, a little child of four years, whom Miss Bosanquet had taken from her mother’s coffin to her own warm care When the nights became dark, a disorderly crowd would gather at the gate to pelt the worshippers with dirt, afterwards invading the yard to reach the unshuttered windows, where they would roar like so many wild beasts But the protecting hand of God kept them from any real bodily harm “The Lord was with us,” wrote the lady of the house most sweetly, “and preserved us under Love’s almighty shade.”
Little Sally was the first of many orphans who followed Through various misfortunes and deaths around her, Miss Bosanquet quickly found herself mothering six of them The number grew until twenty children and several grown people found a home beneath her hospitable roof at one time. This family involved much nursing, for there were never more than six in the house in perfect health.
Miss Bosanquet adopted for the whole household what was almost a uniform of dark purple cotton; she fed them upon simple diet, kept them to regular hours for meals and employment, trained the children for service, and nursed sick people until they were well Hers was indeed a House of Mercy!
Five years had passed since Fletchcr entered Madeley as its Vicar, and with the result of his labours he was anything but satisfied.
Of the fifth year he wrote: “This last year has been the worst I have had here—barren in convictions, fruitful in backslidings.” And to the same correspondent (Miss Hatton, of Wem) he wrote later:—
“The coming of Mr. Wesley’s preachers into my parish gives me no uneasiness. As I am sensible that everybody does better, and is more acceptable than myself, I should be sorry to deprive anyone of a blessing; and I rejoice that the work of God goes on, byany instrument, or inany place.”
This was characteristic of him—ever depreciative of self, and rejoicing in other men’s labours.
Not only Wesley’s itinerants, but the great preacher himself visited Madeley, and it is significant that the straight-speaking old man did not take the same pessimistic view of Fletcher’s work as he did himself After preaching to crowds of his people, Wesley speaks of Madeley as a great and encouraging “prospect.” “There are many adversaries indeed,” writes the Father of Methodism, “but yet they cannot shut the open and effectual door.”
It was not for lack of invitation, but rather because he was so engrossed in his work that the Vicar of Madeley had up to this time confined his labours to his own parish Now, however, he was persuaded to make an evangelistic visit to Breedon, in Leicestershire, also to Bath and Bristol.
While in Bath—conducting an extension of the opening services of Lady Huntingdon’s new chapel—he wrote his first Pastoral Letter to his flock at home Never were letters written less to please the ear, or to make a bid for the affections of a people; honest, faithful exhortations they were, plain to hurting-point, but made of wonderful blessing to those to whom they were read A sample of one will be of interest:—
“Some of you wonder why you cannot believe, why you cannot see Jesus with the eye of your mind, and delight in Him with the affections of your heart I apprehend the reason to be one of these, or perhaps altogether:—
“1 You are not poor, lost, undone, helpless, despairing sinners in yourselves. You indulge spiritual and refined self-righteousness; you are not yet dead to the law, and quite slain by the commandment Now the Kingdom of Heaven belongs to none but the poor in spirit Jesus came to save none but the lost What wonder, then, if Jesus is little to you, and if you do not live in His kingdom of peace, righteousness, and joy in the Holy Ghost?
“2 Perhaps you spend your time in curious reasonings, instead of casting yourselves as forlorn sinners at the feet of Christ, leaving it to Him to bless you when and in the manner He pleases. Know that He is the wise and Sovereign God, and that it is your duty to lie before Him as clay, as fools, as sinful nothings.
“3 Perhaps, also, some of you wilfully keep idols of one kind or another; you indulge some sin against light and knowledge; and it is neither matter of humiliation nor of confession to you The love of praise, that of the world, that of money, and that of sensual gratifications, when not lamented, are as implacable enemies to Christ as Judas and Herod were How can ye believe, seeing ye seek the honour that cometh from men? Hew, then, your Agags in pieces before the Lord Run from your Delilahs to Jesus resolutely Cut off the right hand and pluck out the right eye that offends you ’Come out from among them, and be ye separate, saith the Lord, and I will receive you.’ Nevertheless, when you strive, take care not to make yourself a righteousness of your own striving. Remember that justifying righteousness is finished and brought in, and that your goodness can no more add to it than your sins diminish it Shout then, ’the Lord your righteousness!’ And if you are undone sinners, humbly, and yet boldly, say, ‘In the Lord have I righteousness and strength.’”
There was no false comforting, or fine talk about “only believe” with John Fletcher! If any lacked faith, he cut down to the roots to find out why.
The preaching tours named were followed by many others London, Brighton, and Oathall were visited, in the first of which he officiated for Whitefield in Tottenham Court Road Chapel.
We may judge by a letter to Whitefield that he would have gone yet more frequently if he could, as he remarks, “I should be glad to be your curate some time this year, but I see no opening, nor the least prospect of any What between the dead and the living,a parish ties one down more than a wife.”
He was not without distinguished visitors at the vicarage, however, hostess though he had none; the Countess of Huntingdon, accompanied by Lady Anne Erskine and Miss Orton, accepted the frugal provision for comfort with which John Wesley had previously contented himself; the scarlet coat and gold lace of a famous officer of Dragoons (Captain Scott) was seen in his garden—a man, by the way, who preached daily to his soldiers, and frequently exhorted in a Methodist meeting-house in the full blaze of his regimentals—and was mounted by Fletcher upon his horse-block to address large crowds which gathered to hear him Whitefield was also expected, but could not then avail himself of the invitation, and, later on, he differed very seriously from the Vicar regarding the doctrine of free salvation which it was ever his glory to preach.
Before and beyond everything else John Fletcher wasa seeker after God. To assist himself in this supreme endeavour he drew up the following rules for nightly use:—
1 Did I awake spiritual, and was I watchful in keeping my mind from wandering this morning when I was rising?
2 Have I this day got nearer to God in times of prayer, or have I given way to a lazy, idle spirit?
3 Has my faith been weakened by unwatchfulness, or quickened by diligence this day?
4 Have I this day walked by faith and eyed God in all things?
5 Have I denied myself in all unkind words and thoughts? Have I delighted in seeing others preferred before me?
6 Have I made the most of my precious time, as far as I had light, strength, and opportunity?
7 Have I kept the issues of my heart in the means of grace, so as to profit by them?
8 What have I done this day for the souls and bodies of God’s dear saints?
9 Have I laid out anything to please myself when I might have saved the money for the cause of God?
10 Have I governed well my tongue this day, remembering that “in a multitude of words there wanteth not sin”?
11 In how many instances have I denied myself this day?
12 Do my life and conversation adorn the Gospel of Jesus Christ?
By way of encouraging others to keep themselves thus in touch with God, Fletchcr formed what he called aReligious Society, into whose fellowship he brought all he could whom he found desirous of living the life of full salvation which he everywhere advocated He laid before them a set of home-questions which he urged upon them as a useful form of self-examination. A sample of these will show how practical was the religion he both lived and preached.
“Do I feel any pride? Am I dead to all desire of praise? If any despise me, do I like them the worse for it? Or if they love and approve me, do I love them more on that account? Is Christ the life of all my affections and designs, as my soul is the life of my body? Have I always the presence of God?...Am I saved from the fear of man? .. Am I always ready to confess Christ, to suffer with His people, and to die for His sake?...Am I willing to give up my ease and convenience to oblige others, or do I expect them to do so to my hours, ways, and customs?...Do I never take that glory to myself which belongs to Christ?...Am I courteous, not severe; suiting myself to all with sweetness; striving to give no one pain, but to gain and win all for their good?...Do I perform the most servile offices, such as require labour and humiliation, with cheerfulness?...Is every thought brought into subjection to Christ?...Do I think no evil, listen to no groundless surmises, nor judge from appearances? How am I in my sleep? If Satan presents any evil imagination, does my will immediately resist or give way to it? Do I bear the infirmities of age or sickness without seeking to repair the decays of nature by strong liquors? Or do I make Christ my sole support, casting the burden of a feeble body into the arms of His mercy?”
Fletcher’s correspondence was an unusually heavy one; his letters make quite as spiritual reading as his sermons, yet he gave the choicest of reasons fornotwriting to one man who expected a letter: “Tell Mr. Keen,” he wrote to Whitefield, “I am a letter in his debt, andpostpone writing it till I have had such a sight of Christ as to breathe His love through every line.”
Many pearls of thought were contained in these epistles; while the advice in them was quaintly put, it was always helpful, and never hurled at random.
“Your dulness in private prayer,” wrote he to Miss Hatton, “arises from the want of familiar friendship with Jesus To obviate it, go to your closet as if you were going to meet your dearest friend; cast yourself at His feet, bemoan your coldness, extol His love to you, and let your heart break with a desire to love Him Getrecollection—a dwelling within ourselves—a being abstracted from the creature and turned towards God For want of such a frame, our times of prayer are frequently dry and useless; imagination prevails, and the heart wanders, whereas we pass easily from recollection to delightful prayer.”
To the same person, however, he recommended the cultivation of a wholesome naturalness in religion which would ensure acknowledgment of its beauty in those around her:—
“There is no sin inlooking cheerful. ’Rejoice evermore’; and if it is our duty always to befilled with joy, it is our duty toappearwhat we are in reality I hope, however, your friends know how to distinguish betweencheerfulnessandlevity.
“Beware of stiff singularity in thingsbarely indifferent: it isselfin disguise; and it is so much the more dangerous when it comes recommended by a serious, self-denying, religious appearance.”
It is evident from a glance at his correspondence that Fletcher’s extremely frugal habits and large generosity to others gave not a little anxiety to those who loved him A wealthy merchant of Bristol, named Mr. Ireland, a constant, true, and close friend, sent him a parcel of broadcloth as a gift, beseeching him kindly not to send his coat again to be patched His thanks were thus concluded:—
“Your broadcloth can lap me round two or three times; but the mantle of Divine love, the precious fine robe of Jesus’s righteousness, can cover your soul a thousand times The cloth, fine and good as it is, will not keep out a hard shower; but that garment of salvation will keep out even a shower of brimstone and fire Your cloth will wear out; but that fine linen, the righteousness of saints, will appear with a finer lustre the more it is worn The moth may fret your present, or the tailor may spoil it in cutting it, but the present which Jesus has made you is out of reach of the spoiler, and ready for present wear Let me beseech you, my dear friend, to accept of this heavenly present as I accept of your earthly one I did not send you one farthing to purchase it; it came unsought, unasked, unexpected, as the seed of the woman came. It came just as I was sending a tailor to buy me cloth for a new coat, and I hope when you next see me it will be in your present; now let Jesus see you in His Accept it freely Wear no more the old rusty coat of nature and self-righteousness. Send no more to have itpatchedMake your boast of an unbought suit, and love to wear the livery of Jesus.”
John Fletcher’s letters all tended to the same point as his sermons—a personal appeal to the soul to whom he addressed himself. To the Rev Joseph Benson he wrote:—
“The few professors I see in these parts are so far from what I could wish them and myself to be, that I cannot but cry out, ’Lord, how long wilt Thou give Thine heritage to desolation and barrenness? How long shall the heathen say, Where is now their indwelling God?’ I hope it is better with you in the north What are your heart, your pen, your tongue doing? Are they receiving, sealing, spreading the truth everywhere within your sphere? Are you dead to praise or dispraise? Could you quietly pass for a mere fool, and have gross nonsense fathered upon you without any uneasy reflection of self? The Lord bless you! Beware of your grand enemy, earthly wisdom and unbelieving reasonings You will never overcome but by child-like, loving simplicity.”
In writing to his schoolmaster at Madeley, the Vicar gives a real home-thrust, yet in so kindly a manner that it could hardly be resented:—
“If I were not a minister I would be aschoolmaster, to have the pleasure of bringing up children in the fear of the Lord. That pleasure is yours, relish it, and it will comfort and strengthen you in your work The joy of the Lord and of charity is our strength Salute the children from me, and tell them I long to show them the way to happiness and Heaven Have you mastered the stiffness and shyness of your temper? Charity gives ameekness, an affability, a child-like simplicity and openness, which nature has denied you Let me find you shining by these virtues, and you will revive me much God bless your labour about the sheep and the lambs!”
An insight into his own persevering way of working may well be gained from the directions he give’s in a letter written from Bristol to Mr. Wase, of Madeley:—
“My dear brother,—Go to Mrs. Cound, and tell her I charge her, in the name of God, to give up the world, to set out with all speed for Heaven, and to join the few about her who fear God If she refuses, call again; call weekly, if not daily, and warn her from me till she is ripe for glory... Give my love to George Crannage; tell him to make haste to Christ, and not to doze away his last days.”
To the whole of his parishioners he wrote, on one occasion, an epistle through which we gain a glimpse of the tenderness and beauty of his spirit, chastened still more, as it then was, by affliction:—
“My dear companionsin tribulation,—All the children of God I love; but of all the children of God, none have so great a right, to my love as you Your stated or occasional attendance on my poor ministry, as well as the bonds of neighbourhood, and the many happy hours I have spent with you before the throne of Grace, endear you peculiarly to me. . . .
“I sometimes feel a desire of being buried where you are buried, and of having my bones lie in a common earthen bed with yours; but I soon resign that wish, and exult in thinking that, whatever distance there may be between our graves, we can now bury our sins, cares, doubts, and fears, in the one grave of our Divine Saviour If I, your poor unworthy shepherd, am smitten, be not scattered, but rather be more closely gathered unto Christ, and keep near each other in faith and love, till you all receive our second Comforter and Advocate, the Holy Ghost, the third Person in ourCovenant God.He is with you; but if you plead the promise of the Father, ‘which,’ says Christ, ’ye have heard of Me, He will beinyou.’ He will fill your souls with His light, love, und glory, according to that verse which we have so often sung together:—
“Refining Fire, go through my heart,Illuminate my soul;Scatter Thy life through every part,And sanctify the whole.
“This indwelling of the Comforter perfects the mystery of sanctification in the believer’s soul This is the highest blessing of the Christian covenant on earth Rejoicing in God our Creator, in God our Redeemer, let us look for the full comfort of God our Sanctifier So shall we live and die in the faith, going on from faith to faith, from strength to strength, from comfort to comfort, till Christ is all in all to us all.”